


The one where Baz hates pumkins

by mybluebucketofsnow



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Agatha drinks vodka, Autumn, Autumn Ball, Dark Agatha, Dark Simon Snow, Fiona is a Watford Teacher, M/M, Natasha Grimm-Pitch is alive, Pumpkins, baz is a cinnamon roll, opposite au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-08-28 16:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow
Summary: This is the opposite au, where Baz’s Mother survived vampires attack and Baz was never bitten. Baz goes to Watford, where his Mother is a handmaster. His roommate Simon Snow is a magical world’s outcast after his father the Mage was killed years ago during the rebel against old families. Two of them had never been friends, and now when Watford is almost over it seems like nothing can fix their relationships. Until his Mother and aunt Fiona decide to interact.





	1. Chapter 1

Baz hated autumn and he hated pumpkins and it absolutely didn’t help that everyone around him— his Mother, the headmaster of Watford, included— were apparently obsessed with them. The proof was all around him as he stepped into her office: bigger pumpkins were on windowsills and fireplace and few smaller ones were decorating his Mother’s desk. And even his Mother’s black blazer had a pumpkin pin on. Baz frowned— that last detail was definitely too much.

“Basilton.” his Mother’s voice was tired and a little bit surprised as if she wasn’t the one who sent a note asking him to come over after finishing with his homework. Well, and it wasn’t his fault that Magic Theory essay took forever to accomplish.

“Mother.” Baz nodded trying to not pay attention to the dark circles under her eyes.

“Basilton,” his Mother repeated as if trying to find the right tone. “You look pale, did you have a dinner?”

“Yes, Mother.” And technically it wasn’t a lie if you counted half of a sandwich sneaked from Penelope in library. But what other choice did Baz have if first course at Watford’s dinner was pumpkin soup and second pumpkin curry?

“And walks? Do you take walks as doctor prescribed you?” Their family doctor was almost eighty and Baz didn’t consider his opinion as valuable, but he still nodded, especially since his everyday walks from the dormitory to the library was as good as any other workout.

“I have something for you.” His Mother stood up and with familiar gesture reached for the envelope laying on the edge of her desk.

“I don’t need money yet.” Baz said quickly. He loved his Mother, he really did. But they both lacked the ability to interact with one another and some days it just was more obvious than the others.

“This is not money. Me and your aunt Fiona thought—” his Mother stumbled and Baz’s heart sank down — nothing good ever came out from something that Mother and aunt Fiona planned together. “The neighbor of yours, Simon Snow, how is he doing?”

“He is doing fine.” Baz said dryly, he really didn’t wanna discuss Snow with his _Mother_.

“I see that his grades are not so good recently.” She sat down and opened a folder with “Simon Snow” label on top.

“Recently?” Baz raised his eyebrow sarcastically.

“I mean,” she said, “his grades were never that good, but recently… Especially since he started being friends with this girl… Agatha.”

“Being _friends_?” Baz repeated outrageously. “Is that what your notes say?”

His Mother closed the folder and sat silently for some time, looking down. Baz wondered what _exactly_ aunt Fiona told her.

“Basilton,” she said finally, “you and Simon Snow, are you getting along well?”

Baz froze. He will kill Aunt Fiona. He definitely will. With his own hands _and_ with one of the dark spells that he will have no problem finding in the enormous library inside their house.

“What do you mean?” He still asked, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as tense as he felt.

“I mean,” she replied, “someone like Simon Snow can definitely benefit from having you as his friend. I don’t know how things are between two of you, especially after the accident—“

“Mother, the accident you are referring to happened three years ago.” Baz interrupted. Of course the fact that Snow pushed him from the stairs wasn’t something easy to forget. But he _tried_ to. And he didn’t understand why Mother had to remind him over and over again. Yes, he broke his leg and he was _still_ limping sometimes and their family doctor was _still_ subscribing him some old fashioned ways of treatment (like taking walks around campus or applying weird smelling ointments - and how he was supposed to do that while sharing his room with Snow?), but it wasn’t even the main issue between him and Snow right now. The main issue was… Well, _everything_ else. He caught his Mother staring at him. Suddenly he felt irritated. “And what do you mean someone like _him_?”

His didn’t expect that his Mother to reply, but she did. “When we took Simon Snow to Watford he was an orphan. He spent half of his life with Normals.” She said with hesitation. “We always wanted to help him to become a part of our community, we wanted him to feel he belonged.”

 _We_ meant old families, _we_ meant Baz’s parents and their friends, _we_ meant whole world where Baz  belonged and Snow so obviously didn’t. Baz suddenly felt empty inside. “It is about his father, right? You don’t want him to hate you because you’ve killed him.”

Sixteen years ago Snow’s parents were rebels. They wanted to changed everything, to fix magical world and to fix society. They had a circle of followers and they hired vampires to kill Baz’s Mother. The attempt failed, everything failed. Snow’s parents were killed during the rebellion. At least, that’s what history books said. There was a fight and they lost, but Simon Snow remained.

He lived among Normals for some time until he was found in one the orphan homes. He was found and they took him to Watford, because it was a rule of a magical world — you could never leave one of your own behind. But they could never figure him out, he was one of them and he wasn’t.

He despised magic, or at least that’s what he tried to show by constantly skipping classes. He tried so hard to be different: he was wearing second hand clothes instead of a school uniform and painted his nails black just to annoy teachers.

That’s what everybody else knew, but Baz knew something else. He knew how amazed by magic Snow was his first few years at Watford, and how disappointed he got later, when everybody keep on telling him that he was not good enough. Naturally, later he only pushed it further away, not wanting to be a part of a world that his parents died trying to change.

Strangely, sometimes Snow still practiced magic alone in his room. Baz could tell later by the smell, that Snow’s magic remained. He liked it, but recently it almost never happened. Probably when Baz will be back today the room will only smell of smoke.

“You know, when the spell chose you from all others to be Simon’s roommate I was devastated. It was Fiona, who made me change my mind. She said, ‘let Simon Snow be Basilton’s friend. Basilton is a good kid, he will help him, he will bring him to our side’.”

Baz squeezed his eyes shut. “He never wanted to be my roommate. He hated me from the first day.” It felt like confession even though his Mother probably already knew the truth. He failed. He wasn’t meant to be the one to make other people his friends.

“Basil,” she said seriously, “I know he likes you, _everybody_ does.”

Baz froze. It was untrue on so many levels. First of all nobody really liked him. Well, except for some teachers, and his parents and aunt Fiona, and maybe Penelope sometimes, when they were not arguing on Witchcraft Science matters. He was plain, he was boring. Two things Snow despised the most — magic and old families, and Baz was representing both.

“I would really like you two to get along. We all would.”

That meant the whole magic community, his Mom included, wanted Baz to become Snow’s friend. Which was impossibly lame and pretty ironic, all things considered.

“Me and aunt Fiona came up with few tips to maybe help you communicate better.” His Mother reached for the envelope again.

“You and Aunt Fiona did _what_?”

“We made a list. Well, I started the list, and then Fiona helped me and added a few things herself… You can just take a look yourself.”

Baz didn’t move. Mother thought some stupid list would fix all the things that were wrong in his and Snow’s relationship: silent evenings when they didn’t have anything to say to one another, gloomy mornings when Snow acted like he didn’t exist, all those years at Watford where ignoring one another first became a rule and then just a dull a habit they both followed.

And if aunt Fiona was participating it meant a whole other thing as well. Because she knew. A few years ago he was hurt and soft and stupid enough to tell her _everything_.

His Mother’s hand with envelope hung in the air. Baz stayed still, looking at it as if she was handing him a snake.

“Basilton,” she said. “We trust you with this.”

And just like that he agreed. In his universe these words were enough. He could never let his Mother down. He took the envelope and then took few steps back. He wanted this conversation to be over as soon as possible. “Can I go now?”

“Just one more thing.” His Mother said. “What will you wear to the Autumn Ball?”

Baz cringed. Autumn Ball was all of the worst cliches combined: pumpkin decorations, non-alcoholic cider and awkward conversations. Also he didn’t wanna spend the evening witnessing Snow been all over his girlfriend, while slow dancing. He had enough of that over the past years.

“I am not going.”

“As you wish.” His Mother sighed. They both knew that she already reached the limit of favours she was allowed to ask tonight.

Five minutes later he was standing behind the doors in the dark Watford's corridor, the envelope crumpled in his back pocket. As if he wasn’t already stressed enough with the school and Autumn Ball, he was trying not to think how it would feel to live a world where he could actually ask his roommate Simon Snow to go out there together.

 

***

 

Baz hated entering their room, especially when Snow was in. He never knew what to say and this time wasn’t an exception, he came in staying silent, no greetings, just creak of the old door, which Snow didn’t pay attention to anyway. He was laying on his bed, headphones on, eyes closed. However this was a relief — Baz wasn’t in a mood for a fight.

As he expected, the room smelled of tobacco and Agatha’s perfume. Baz wondered if it smelled like sex. He didn’t wanna know, not really.

He silently picked up his night cloth and crossed the room to the bathroom, trying not to step over the yellow tape on the floor. He put the tape himself on their second year, when Snow dared him to. The tape stayed there through all Watford years, separating their room in two equal parts. His part clean and organised and Snow’s — always messy and staffed.

As he closed the bathroom’s door behind him, the tension of sharing the same space and been ignored slowly left him and he let himself breath out. It was ridiculous how his Mother wanted him to be friends with Snow, when they didn’t even speak on a daily basis.

But promise was a promise and he made himself pull out the envelope with the list inside. He will read it just in case his Mother or aunt Fiona ask him questions later. Not that he believed even for a second that it might contain something useful.

First said: “ _Start each day with greetings. Saying good night and good morning, might feel like small things, but they are important in order to let other person know that you are friendly and interested in their wellbeing.”_    

That definitely wasn’t a promising start, and Baz just quickly glanced the whole thing through. The list was printed and from the first sight it looked just like a copy from any crappy psychology book. He did not know why, but he kinda expected _more_ from his Mother. Then Baz noticed few marks in his aunt Fiona handwriting, which made the whole thing much more real and harder to ignore.

For example near second point, that said: “ _Have you meals together, as frequent as possible. Shared dinner is a perfect opportunity to speak and get to know one another better.”_ His Aunt added: _“fyi Snow’ favorite food are sour cherry scones”_ (as if he didn’t know it already, after seeing Snow stuffing his mouth with them each morning) _._ And on the third point which suggested “ _Help him to study in order to keep  friendship not only interesting, but useful_ ” his aunt wrote: “ _Yes, please. I am tired of Snow’s shitty essays._ ”

Aunt Fiona was a teacher of History of Magic at Watford and even though Baz liked to see her almost everyday, sometimes he was terrified of how much she actually knew about his life. Especially about his and Snow relationship.

Finally the last point was written completely in his aunt’s writing and said: _“Your Mother won’t read it, so I will say as it is: stop playing fool and finally ask him out to the Autumn Ball. I can’t wait to see you two dancing.”_

Baz crumpled the paper. It sucked having his Aunt as his best friend and it sucked even more to share his best friend with his Mother. Because they plotted this whole thing together just to manipulate him into being friends with Snow. They didn’t want him to growing apart from magic community and becoming a threat like his father was. And Baz somehow agreed to be a part of that. He threw the crumpled list into the trash.

No, he will go back to their room and just act like the whole thing never happened. And let Snow to decide his own life for himself. Except… Except he didn’t really wanna go back to how things were between them. They don’t need to be friends, of course, but maybe talk time to time would be nice. And in theory he _could_ help Snow study a little bit.

He squatted to get the crumpled list from the trash. No way he was letting Snow accidentally find _this_. Because, one, it was embarrassing and, two, of course Snow would automatically assume the worst. No, he needed a much safer place. He ended up carefully folding it and putting it back inside envelope.

When he came out Snow was laying on his side reading a comic book. Baz looked closer wondering if it was the same one that Snow was reading for the last three days. He honestly couldn’t understand how you can read something with so little text for such a long time. But then he didn’t understand the comic book as a concept in general as well.

Snow was bringing dozens of them each summer from the Normals world. Sometimes Baz thought that he wanted to surround himself with as many non-magical things as possible - their room was practically a Normals museum, at least Snow’s half. There were posters on the wall with bands Baz never heard of, piles of comics on the floor and a collection of old cassettes that Snow listened with his vintage Walkman. All those things just reminded Baz of a world that Snow loved and he could never even start to understand.

He went to his bed and turned off the light. He watched Snow holding a comic book, apparently not being able to move to the next page just staring into the void. Something was wrong. Once again Baz wished that he could ask what’s going on. Or at least _talk_.

“Good night.” He said before he had time to think what he was doing.

Snow blinked. One moment passed after another. The silence fell, heavy as a stone into the water and the world fell apart into million pieces.

“I broke up with Agatha.”

Snow was still looking into a void in front of him. His voice sounded tired. Finally he threw the comic on the floor and turned off the light near his bed. Baz heard him crawling under the blankets.

Was it the reason for Snow being sad before? Was he regretting the breakup already? “Does this mean that our room won’t smell like her perfume anymore?”

“I don’t know.” He imagined Snow shrugging. Merlin, they didn’t speak for so long that he forgot how bad Snow was with words. “She still might come over time to time.”

 _Oh_. That’s what their breakup meant. “I see.” Baz said. He hoped his voice didn’t sound too disappointed.

“What about you and Penelope Bounce?” Snow asked. “Are you still going out?”

“Merlin, Snow. We are just friends.”

“Oh yeah,” Snow mumbled. “Sorry, didn’t know that.”

Well, Baz didn’t really expect Snow to know anything about his life. He tried to fix awkward silence. “What is your comic about?” He asked.

“It is about children who run away from their evil parents and later were fighting them.” Snow cleared his throat. “You know, I can relate sometimes. I mean, I never knew my Father, but—“ His voice broke.

“Do you think your Father was evil?” Baz asked carefully.

“I mean he tried to kill your Mom, didn’t he? And your Mom is kinda cool.”

“My Mother is dreadful sometimes.”

“Well, she was always nice to me.” It was a surprise to learn that Snow didn’t hate his family. Oh at least his Mother. It didn’t mean that he felt the same way about Baz, though.

There was a pause after that. Either Snow fell asleep or wasn't interested it keeping conversation further. “Tell Agatha not to smoke on my bed next time. I can’t change my sheets everyday.” Baz said dryly into the darkness, but of course nobody answered.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

From all things in Watford Simon liked mornings the best. More precisely he liked breakfasts. Breakfast was the highest point of his day and from there, things just slowly went downhill. In Watford — the place that he hated the most — it was simply inevitable.

But today even morning sucked. He woke up to the familiar sound of Baz moving through their room and he watched through the half-opened eyes as Baz was tidying up his bed in some complicated manner, later following that with half an hour of sliding on his Watford’s uniform. Simon knew his rituals almost by heart by now, as well as he knew that the clothes in his wardrobe were sorted by size and colour (Agatha used to constantly glance inside, making fun of Baz obsession with keeping his things in order).

He was watching through the whole morning ritual of his roommate, pretending to be asleep, till Baz left. That’s why he was late for breakfast, and when he finally got to Watford’s diner all scones were gone and now he was sitting with the plain sandwich. This was the first reason today’s morning sucked.

The second reason was Agatha. Of course, Agatha was evil sometimes, but that is why Simon liked her as well. She was wild and unpredictable and she hated Watford the same way as he did. And she was his friend. At least till the point when she wasn’t.

Simon took a bite of his sandwich, staring at his cup of coffee. 

“I am not sharing my scones with him.”  He heard a voice above his head. 

“There are not  _ your _ scones, they are  _ my _ scones.” The second voice replied and Simon jerked his head up. It was Baz.

“I thought we had an agreement. Everything that you won’t eat automatically belongs to me.” Penelope Bunce and Basilton Pitch were standing above him, bickering, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Hi,” Baz finally said nervously to him, holding a plate in his hands and changing from one foot to another. “Do you fancy some scones?”

“They are probably cold,” Bunce said, sitting on a chair across from him. She snatched one of them and took a bite. “And dry. And he will never take anything from you anyway.”

Her hair was purple this week and her glasses frames were pink. Simon hated the Watford uniform (he never wore it), but with the contrast to her hair, even the uniform looked almost bearable.

“What do you want?” Simon asked watching Bunce putting butter over her scone.

“World Peace, my own pony and another one of these scones.” She said with a grin and then she turned to Baz. “I’ve told you it would be a waste of time.”

Baz was wearing a uniform as well, but it was so obsessively polished, that it was almost painful to look at. He looked like his usual self - uptight, clean and nervous. Even more nervous than usual, Simon noticed, while Baz was trying to keep his gaze somewhere under Simon's chin.

“I will take one, thank you,” Simon said. In fact, the scone wasn’t cold, it was warm and it smelled amazing.

“Punk,” Bunce said. “Where is your crazy ass girlfriend?”

“I don’t know where Agatha is.” He felt Baz watching him. “And she is not my girlfriend.” 

“Did you do your Magic Theory homework?” Baz asked with a flat voice.

“Of course he didn’t,” Bunce said. She put her feet over the chair nearby.

Simon felt irritated. It was easy for them to ask. They both were from the old families, they both had magic as the part of their life from the start. Spoiled, privileged kids. They always felt at their place at Watford, not like him.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to give me yours.” He said in his most wicked voice. He didn’t care.

“That is just priceless,” Bunce said and grinned. “Not in a million years, Snow.”

Simon looked at Baz. His hair laid flat over his head, separated carefully in the middle. He blinked under his stare and reached into his school bag. He took out his notebook and put it on the table in front of Simon.

“Here.” He said. “You can take mine.”

Simon felt his face burning. He pushed the notebook away. “I don’t need anything from the Grimm-Pitches.”

“Penny.” Baz looked at the Bunce. 

“Merlin’s beard,” she said. “Don’t make me do that.” 

She hesitated for some time, but finally, she slapped her notebook atop as well.

“Don't flatter yourself.” She said to Simon. "I am not doing this for you."

He didn’t move. Bunce rolled her eyes. “Just take it. And stop being difficult.”

Simon looked at two notebooks laying in front of him. The whole thing seemed surreal. What the fuck was happening here? Apparently, there was a whole meaning behind this that he didn’t understand. He desperately wished for Agatha to be near. He knew what she would say - ‘Be careful, they are plotting something against you’.

“I am counting till five. Take it or leave it, Snow.” Bunce said. “One, two, three…”

Before she finished her ridiculous countdown, Simon saw Fiona Pitch moving across the diner. She was flawless as always, wearing a black pants suit and carrying the cup of coffee in her hand. The whole teacher look was spoiled by one thing only - Doc Martens boots that she was wearing with the same confidence as if they were high heels. Of course, she spotted Baz and Bunce immediately. Simon tensed.

“Hey, kids!” Fiona Pitch swung by their table and put the hand around Baz’s shoulders. “How my little nephew is doing? Nice hair colour, Penelope.”

She put her coffee cup on the table and only then spotted Simon.

“Simon Snow.” She said and gave him a once over look. “I see the whole grunge thing didn’t just die in the nineties.”

Nobody laughed. Baz and Bunce shared a clueless look (they often shared this look) - they probably didn’t even know what grunge meant. Simon knew, but he wasn’t in a mood to laugh at Fiona Pitch’s jokes.

“I gotta go.” He said and stood up.

“Wait a minute,” Fiona said, she just noticed the two notebooks laying in front of him. “What is that? Copying homework, huh?”

She turned around and gave Baz a curious look.

“Aunt Fiona-” he started.

“Don’t Aunt Fiona me.” Her voice switched to the one she usually used in a classroom. “Rules are rules for everyone, Basilton. And if I found you three cheating, you should be punished the same way as everyone.”

“That is ridiculous!” Bunce jumped up. “I wasn’t cheating!”

“Isn’t it your notebook, Penelope? Did you give it to Simon Snow?”

Bunce’s face turned red. “This wasn’t my idea.” She said and gave Baz an angry look.

“Oh really? Interesting… Then whose idea it was?” For a moment her voice sounded amused. She turned to Baz. “Really Baz?  _ Really? _ Giving your homework to Simon Snow?”

“I just wanted to help,” Baz mumbled staring down at his feet.

“Let me see...” She was back to her teacher’s voice. “How about I will give all of you a Magic Theory assignment. By Friday, come up with five new spells on a topic that you are currently studying. Each of you. And get prepared together. This what helping really means, not just giving your homework to copy.”

“Fiona,” Baz said. “You are not a Magic Theories teacher. And we are studying predictions now. We are not allowed to do any spells. Predicting the future might be dangerous.”

“Nonsense. I will talk with your teacher and I will let him know about your assignment. So I suggest you take it seriously. Your teacher is Nicodemus, right?”

Snow sighed. Everybody knew that Fiona Pitch and Nicodemus were friends from their early times in Watford.

“You can’t use your personal connections to make our lives harder,” Baz said quietly. “Nico is your fiance.”

“Who said using,” Fiona smirked. “Nico would be happy that I am helping his students.”

The whole argument stopped making any sense. Simon grabbed his backpack. He couldn’t believe he let himself to be the part of this stupid charade. That what happens if you stay around Pitches for too long. Simon had no doubt that the whole thing was set up by Baz. 

“I am out of here.” He said turning around.

“You have two days till Friday!” Fiona shouted to his back, but he was already out. He knew one thing for sure — he needed to find Agatha as soon as possible. She would know what the whole thing was about.  
  
***  
  
“Congratufuckinglations.” Agatha said, taking a drag from her e-cigarette. “One week without me and you’re already fucking screwed.” 

Simon found her behind the library, on her favourite bench under the maple tree. This was a bench they first kissed on. He remembered how fun it was and how Agatha bit his lower lip so that he felt and tasted blood in his mouth. 

Sometimes it was hard to control his memories when he was around her. He told his mind to shut the fuck up.

“What is that?” He pointed at her e-cig. “And why am I screwed?”

“That is called technology,” Agatha said blowing the sick smoke out. “And you are screwed because you are letting Pitch put a fucking leash on your neck.”

“Which Pitch you are talking about?”

“Well, not the little Freak, obviously. He is too spineless to do anything on his own. But either Natasha or Fiona is playing you.”

The fruit smoke felt toxic around Simon. “Isn’t it just another way for you to kill yourself?” He asked.

Agatha smiled. Simon liked and hated how the smile made her face look. “Be careful, Simon. They will use your obsession with the little Loser against you.”

“Who’s they?” Simon tried to concentrate on parts of Agatha’s speech which at least made sense. 

“Old families.” Agatha pulled him by the sleeve of his coat. “Sit down, stupid, I won’t bite you.”

“I don’t wanna be late.”

“Look at him. One breakfast with Basilton Pitch and you already can’t skip one fucking class?” Agatha’s hand slid down his sleeve till her cold fingers touched his.

Simon sat down and carefully took his hand away. He breathed autumn air in and smelled a hint of her perfume. Those were always the smallest things that hurt the most.

“Are you saying that they are using Baz to manipulate me?”

“What else? Do you think Looser suddenly decided all by himself to act on his feelings about you?”

Simon stared at yellow leaves under his feet. He knew Agatha was right. She was always right. “Fuck them.” He said.

“On the other hand, you can use little Freak yourself to find out what their plans really are.” Agatha turned off her e-cigarette and hid it in her purse. She took out the flask instead. “For justice.” She said and took a swig.

Simon felt a smell of vanilla vodka. “He is not stupid, you know.”

“He is when he is around you.”

Once again, Simon skipped through Agatha’s crazy theories. “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“Oh, not much, darling. I am not saying you should ask him to the Autumn Ball or something,” she smirked. “Unless you want to, of course.”

Simon felt his face going red, he hated Agatha’s jokes. He tried to stand up, but Agatha pulled him back down.

“Relax. Just talk with him, ask him how he folds his T-shirts or whatever.” She snorted. “But don’t overdo it or he will drool all over you while you sleep.”

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. That’s why he wasn’t friends with Agatha anymore. “You are the worst.” 

“And you love it. Now stop pouting and let’s have some fun.” She passed him her flask and Simon took it automatically. “Oh, and while you are on it can you please snatch Bunce’s iPhone so that I could watch some YouTube videos?”

“Snatch it yourself,” Simon said. He closed the flask without drinking. “I am done playing your crazy games.”   
He stood up and started walking away, but as he was walking he still kept hearing Agatha’s laugh behind his back.

Simon went back to his classes, but the seat near him remained empty. Agatha was skipping until the last one. As careless as she was, she never missed Normals History. Non-magical classes were her favourite. Well, at least she had favourites, not like Simon, he had only a void inside. 

She sat near and kissed him on the cheek as if nothing had happened. “Look at you, sitting all nicely through classes, staring at Loser’s back all day long.”

“Look at you missing three classes in a row.”

“Well, I had more fun than you, obviously,” Agatha smirked. “Or does spying on Grimm-Pitch count as a proper entertainment now? He is not that interesting, you know.”

The lesson started and she kept silent throughout, only adding some notes to her notebook as the lesson went along. She sighed at the end of it.

“I am tired of how they teach us Normals history here. Like nothing ever happened without our magical guidance from above.” She said. “They are just so full of themselves. That is so annoying.” Simon beamed at her in surprise, in the moments like that he remembered why he used to like her in a first place. 

Then she shoved him with her elbow and the illusion was over, “So will you try to talk to the Loser or no? We need to find what’s going on.”

“If you forgot,” Simon reminded her. “We do not  _ talk _ .”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Just go over there and ask him what his favourite book is or what is the right way to separate laundry before washing or  _ anything _ . Come on!” She hissed. 

It was easier to agree then to keep fighting, so Simon made himself stand up and slowly approach the desk where Baz and Bunce were sitting. Of course, they were nosing down into their textbooks, even though the lesson was already over. He stayed there till Baz raised his head and stared Simon flatly. 

Simon felt strange looking at him from the upper position. Usually, it was the other way around. But now he could see him really well, his thin, slightly long nose, cold grey eyes and even the deep wrinkle between his dark eyebrows.

He had no idea what to say. “So, this morning...” He stumbled.

“If you wanna say something, first learn to form your words, Snow.” Baz stood up and started collecting his things. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to ask about our Magical Theory assignment.”

“Don’t act as if you care.” Baz threw the bag strap over his shoulder. “It looks ridiculous on you.”

As he passed by Simon caught him by the sleeve so that Baz had to stop. “Why did you set me up this morning?” Simon hissed. “Did you plan it all out with your witch aunt?”

Baz sneered. “So much drama, Snow.” He lowered his gaze where Simon’s hand was still holding his sleeve. “Did Wellbelove put that primitive trail of thought in your head? Or was the non-trivial thinking that led to that conclusion your own?”

Simon took a step back. He stopped holding on Baz and eventually their hands fell apart. Baz made a turnaround and walked towards the exit. From the distance, it was possible to notice that he was slightly limping. Till this day it was still painful for Simon to realize he was the one responsible for that.

“Wow. That was intense.” He heard Bunce from under his elbow.

“What’s wrong with him?” Simon asked. He wasn’t sure that Bunce would talk with him, but it still was worth trying.

“Well, you probably don’t deserve to know, but when you left, Baz tried to defend you in front of Fiona and Nicodemus, but you decided to spoil everything by skipping lesson completely, so now we are screwed. They made our assignment double.”

“Is he angry about extra work?” Simon frowned. “I thought Baz likes to study.”

Bunce just sighed, “Why are you asking me? You guys live together. You might as well try to talk  _ to him  _ from time to time.”

Simon sat down, he felt weird to sit in a place where Baz just sat a few minutes ago.

“Bunce,” He said, “why did you give me your notebook this morning?”

It was easier to talk when he couldn’t see her face. “I don’t mind helping you.” She said quietly. “I just don’t believe in the copying of homework.”

“Of course you don’t.” Simon grinned. “And what about Baz?”

“What about him?”

“You helped only because he asked, right?”

“You shouldn’t have skipped class today. Not when he wanted you there.”

“I don’t understand,” Simon said.

Bunce rolled her eyes. “Magic Theory is really important. It’s the base of everything else. It could really help if you study it a bit better.”

“Magic and me, we don’t exactly get along well,” Simon didn’t want his voice to sound bitter.

“That is the stupidest thing I ever heard,” Bunce said in her most matter of fact voice. 

Simon stood up. “Thank you.” He muttered.

“Don’t thank me,” Penelope said. “I am not the one who tries to believe in you.”   
  
***

Simon looked for Baz at dinner time, but apparently, he and Bunce were too busy studying in the library all day long. Which was simply ridiculous because the pumpkin pie served for dinner that day was amazing. Still, the library was one place Simon couldn't make himself go to. The light there was too bright and it smelled weird inside. And he couldn’t be around people who chose to spend their evening  _ studying _ .

Agatha was absent as well so he just went back to his room alone. He was bored and he tried out a few spells, which he hadn’t done in quite some time. He was never comfortable with complicated spells, he was simply afraid to do something wrong. Something irreversible, something nobody could ever fix. Also, he didn’t want Baz to kill him if he accidentally set their room on fire.

He tried to use  **Clean as a whistle** on a few of his dirty T-shirt’s and ended up almost ruining one of them. He didn’t feel disappointed anymore — this is how things always were when he did magic.

He was about to try one more time when the door opened and Baz came in. Simon froze in the middle of the room, with his wand pointed at his T-shirt. He didn’t want Baz to see him failing. Not again. He quickly sat on his bed and tried to hide his wand under the blankets.

Baz rose up his eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He was still wearing his school uniform and his tie was accurately tidied up.

“Where were you at dinner?” Simon snapped.

For a moment it felt like he got Baz by surprise with his question. He almost saw some emotions flickering at his face, but then it quickly shifted to be dull again. 

“And where were  _ you _ at first period?” Baz asked back, he crossed the room and sat opposite from Simon.

Simon stared at the floor. “I was with Agatha.” He said.

“I see.” Baz’s voice sounded even. “I was skipping dinner because I hate Pumpkin pie.”

“What?” Simon thought he misheard.

“I said I hate pumpkin pie. As well as pumpkin soup or pumpkin carry. Basically, everything made from the pumpkin is the worst.” Baz continued as if sharing their gastronomy tastes was the most usual thing to do.

Simon felt lost, he didn’t know what to reply. He tried to remember Agatha’s advice to  _ be nice _ . “Did you have something to eat?” He asked finally.

Baz slowly shook his head.

“I have some potato crisps in my backpack if you want them,” Simon suggested carefully.

“Gross.” Baz made a disgusted face, the wrinkle between his eyebrows coming back. “On the other hand, I never doubted you, Snow. On the topic of having a junk food in your backpack, I mean.” It was hard to tell if Baz sounded ironic or amused. Simon pulled out the pack of crisps and threw it across the room on Baz’s bed. Baz didn’t move. “What did Agatha tell you?” He asked.

Simon shrugged. “She said I should snatch Penelope’s phone so that she can watch YouTube videos.” He observed Baz’s face changing from puzzled to worried and finally to a small grin that stayed there for a few moments. “And what did your aunt say when I left?”

“She said that if she will catch me giving you homework again she will never let me ride the front seat of her car and basically will bribe my Mother to remove me from a family will. She was pretty pissed.”

Baz’s voice sounded sincere, or at least it sounded the same way as usual, which wasn’t a reassuring thing. “Are you telling me that you didn’t set the whole thing up?” Simon asked and saw Baz’s face tensing.

“As if it’s my most sacred idea of fun to spend an evening with you-” Baz stumbled. “...trying to shove some knowledge in your head while you do your best to resist.” The last part he almost spat out. Then he shifted and stared at the floor.

“Well, I thought you liked studying,” Simon said.

“Not, when it means spending time with you.”

“Same here.”

“Then do what you do the best. Don’t show up.” His voice sounded weird. Almost as if he had emotions. Almost as he cared.  _ What if Agatha was right _ , Simon thought,  _ what if her plan was already working _ .

“Give me my crisps back,” He demanded. “And count me in for this stupid assignment together. I don’t care.”

Baz stared at him, “Do you understand that it implies you spending Friday evening in the library studying, instead of hanging Merlin knows where with your girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Simon corrected for the millionth time. “And we just used hang out  _ here _ .”

He reached for the crisps, but Baz snatched them away. “I know what your ‘hanging out’ means, Snow.” His cheeks went slightly pink. He tried to weaken his tie. “And this junk food is disgusting. I am not willing to go to bed while you are crunching under your blankets.”

Simon shrugged, he gave a last pleading look to the crisps, that Baz stacked under his bed. Of course, it was possible to snatch them out later, but Simon didn’t wanna violate their oldest rule about not crossing each other half. That’s why the yellow tape was there anyway. That’s why everything else was the way it was.

He didn’t wanna ask  _ why _ again, just for a moment there he wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet and let himself think that there were no reasons behind Baz suddenly been nice to him these past days. He wanted to let himself to believe in it even if it was just for a little while.   
  
  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Carry On people! I need a new beta reader for this story. Please let me know if you are willing: to find my grammar and punctual mistakes, to discuss holes in the plot and suggest your highly appreciated opinion on characters. Since I am very slow with updates it shouldn’t take much of your time. The only condition is that you have to be older than 21 years old. If you are interested please contact me on mybluebucketofsnow.tumblr.com  
> And for everybody else - thanks again for reading this story, it’s such a pleasure to share it with you once again.

Every time Baz walked into the Watford’s library he always took a deep breath in. He liked the smell of old books combined with a quiet atmosphere and the sense of accomplishment that he felt by getting things done. Usually, it was his safe space.

But today, as he followed Penny to their favourite table, he froze near his chair, suddenly realizing that the library entrance was too visible, looming in front of him like a dark distraction. He didn’t wanna spend all his evening pathetically staring there.

Penny dropped her bag on a table with a thud. “Your anxiety is making me nervous.” She said, her voice irritated. “Just stop, ok?”

“Stop what?” Baz asked. He knew what she meant. He took his jacket off and started rolling up the sleeves of his white button down.

“Stop freaking out! He might not even show up tonight.”

“I know,” Baz said. “I really hope he won’t.” Eventually, he rolled the sleeves back. Somehow not having his hands exposed felt so much safer.

At this point he hated the list, that his Mother and Fiona gave him and that was accurately stacked between his notebook pages now. He hated all advice inside of it, but moreover, he hated his pathetic attempts to try to follow them over and over again.

It was a Friday night after all and the library was almost empty. Who would even choose to study instead of doing something fun instead? Naturally, not Simon Snow.

“Did you have a chance to ask Nicodemus how this assignment should be approached? Last time I checked, we are not allowed to do actual prediction spells. And how are we supposed to come up with spells if we can’t even try them out?” He knew, that Penny was trying to distract him and he was really grateful for that. He tried to focus on her questions.

“Yes, I talked with him. Yesterday I came to see him after lessons.”

“And?”

“And Fiona was there. Inside. Sitting on his lap.”

Penny snorted. “Still dressed, I suppose? Not like the last time?”

“God, no.” Baz wrinkled his forehead trying to fight terrible memories away. “Now I always knock before coming in. But I suppose they were quite close to getting there. They wanted to get reed from me as fast as possible. Fiona said that doing small prediction spells is not a big deal. But apparently, her and Nico’s opinions on the topic are completely different. They ended up arguing about Time Prediction Paradox.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “If the prediction that you saw changed your actions in present does it mean that the prediction was the result of these changes in the first place-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know what Time Prediction Paradox means.” Penny interrupted. “Did they allow us to try the spells though?”

“They were arguing for half an hour. They’ve got quite passionate about it, actually.” He wrinkled his forehead again. ”Finally, they remembered that I was in the room and quickly decided that if we will try out something small it won’t be a big deal. Then they kicked me out.” He caught himself staring at the library entrance and quickly looked away.

“Something small… Hm.” Penny rubbed her chin. “If I will try to predict the possibility of me moving out to States with Mika… Does it count as something small? Or if I’ll be the top class this year… Or-” She continued to mumble something else but he got distracted by the library door squeezing. He never imagined that this door can be so loud. _Don’t look up._ He said to himself. _This is not him anyway._

“What the fuck,” Penny whispered. She half turned to stare at the entrance. The second later he kicked him under the table so hard, that he had to look up as well.

Agatha Wellbelove was standing near the library's doors. Sometimes when you saw her you could not see anything else. But of course, Simon Snow was there as well.

They looked like two dark beautiful twins. Both skinny and pale, wearing the same black outfit with black jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. The only difference was their hair - Agatha’s was smooth and shiny blond, while Snow’s was an uncontrolled mess of dirty yellow.

Agatha’s eyes stopped on Baz. She smirked and slowly approached their table. “Happy to see?” She asked, sitting on library table half-turned to Penny. In the bright light, Baz could see very well how perfect her pale skin was.

“Is it a nightmare or did I just tried out a prediction spell and it went completely wrong?” Penny muttered.

“Is this supposed to be funny remark in your geek universe?” Agatha yawned and looked over her shoulder at Snow. He approached the table as well, hands deep down in his pockets, obviously not sure what to do next.

“Hey,” he said without looking at anybody.

“Don’t be shy.” Agatha tagged Snow over his sleeve making him sit down on the chair near her. “Our friends are happy to see us, right?”

“Happy my ass.” Penny mattered.

“I am here to do our assignment.” Snow was looking at Baz now. “So that you wouldn’t say, you know… That I didn’t try.”

“What a motivation.” Penny made a half turn and stared at Agatha. “And what are you doing here? As far as I know, you are not interested in _trying_.”

“Correct,” Agatha nodded with amusement. “But I was promised an entertainment later, right Simon?” She put her hand at Snow’s shoulder.

“We were invited to a party.” Snow started to explain. Baz was feeling with the whole surface of his skin that Snow was staring at him again.

“You can come along, of course,” Agatha said. “But I don’t think that it’s a good idea.” She coughed. “All things considered.”

“Meaning?” Penny rose her eyebrow.

“Meaning that we wanna have fun,” Agatha said lazily. “And you wanna stay at the library and study.” She flipped over a few pages in Penny's notebook with her perfectly polished pink nails. “What are you studying here exactly?”

Meanwhile, Snow took a pencil and opened his notebook. Somehow Baz was impressed that he didn’t forget to bring one.

“Predictions,” Penny said. She was staring at Snow’s notebook as well.

“Boring.” Agatha stood up and did a stretch. Baz caught himself staring at her and blinked. Agatha smirked. “Your kids stay and play and I will go do some business.”

Before leaving Agatha quickly messed up Snow hair and winked at Baz. Then we went in the depth of the library between the bookshelves.

“Where is she going?” Penny asked. “I am worried about the library equipment. She doesn’t have a lighter with her, right?”

“She probably just went to check out the non-magical section. She loves those books.” Snow’s voice sounded warm. And his hair was still a mess. Baz felt himself getting irritated. “Shouldn’t we getting started with the assignment?” Snow asked.

“Can’t wait to get out of here, Snow?” Baz snapped almost automatically.

“I thought we came here to study.” Snow said in an even voice. “Your aunt told you to _help_ me.”

“I do not have to do everything my aunt tells me.”

“Oh, really?” Snow raised his brow with amusement. “It's not what I heard.”

“ _Boys_.” Penny rolled her eyes. “Answering your question Snow. We should come up with prediction spells. Fiona gave us permission to try out few, and I don’t wanna lose this opportunity only because you decided to spend this evening fighting in that lovely manner of yours. In other words — _hush_.”

“I don’t know how to create spells.” Snow said. “I only tried out the once from books.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Penny made a wide gesture with her hand. “Just rhyme together few words and then put your magic inside of it. But not too much. Otherwise, you might predict something important and that will change your actions and the future and the whole universe will collapse.”

“Or maybe the future he’ll see will happen only because he made the prediction today,” Baz said. “In other words, the future is a consequence of prediction and is inevitable.”

“Hey! Don’t be all smart with me.” Penny grinned. “Is it even me you are trying to impress?”

Baz felt his cheeks going red, but when he looked at Snow he saw only his troubled expression.

“Write from your heart,” Baz said without thinking. A moment later he cringed inside. He couldn’t believe that he just said the advice _his Mom_ once gave him.

“Wow.” Penny shoot a surprised look at him and then turned to Snow. “We will help you, ok? Just don’t be afraid to give it a try.”

“Right.” Snow said. He still looked troubled. “What if I will do something dangerous or stupid?”

“Well, Baz once conjured his own ass to the chair. We had to spend 8 hours in the library waiting for a spell to wear off.” Penny said with a smirk. “I don’t think you can ever do anything as stupid as that.”

“Have you really conjured your ass to the chair?” Snow asked with amusement. Of course, Baz was happy for the mood change, but not on the account of his ass mentioned out loud on multiple occasions. Especially not by Simon Snow.

“Sod off,” He muttered feeling his face going on fire.

“Ok, five minutes for a first try.” Penny pointed to the clocks on the wall. “Remember, go with something simple. Write down keywords that you want to use and we will combine them together later.”

Baz watched Snow slightly knocking wooden table with his pencil as he stared into his notebook. He was silently moving his lips, combining together words in his head. Eventually, he dropped the pencil and put a hand throw his hair, a familiar gesture, that still made Baz stare. Penny made a coughing sound and kicked him under the table.

“Two minutes left.” She said with emphasis. “Do not get distracted.”

Baz stared into his empty page. Starting was always the worst. Usually, he could never come up with something good at a first round. He rubbed his neck. He tried not to stare up at Snow again.

 _“Tomorrow.”_ He wrote down. _“Next week. Future. Exams. Autumn. Autumn ball.”_

He didn’t know how the last one came up so he just furiously crossed that out. He watched Penny crossing out as well and felt instantly better knowing that he was not the only one having trouble figuring out the perfect spell. Not perfect, really. He didn’t need perfect, he just needed something to show Nico and Fiona, to finish this stupid assignment and to finally count this day over.

“Ok, I will start,” Penny said. “Usually we don’t read our words out loud till the spell is ready, but I will just to give Snow an example. My words are _Mica, USA, America, trip, predict, luck, love._ ” Last word she said with a lower voice as if trying out the ground. Maybe in other circumstances, Baz would make fun of her, but today he knew that they were a team, so he just nodded. “Next round we will try to combine these words together. Pick the most important one. Pick the one that you really wanna know.”

This was the problem actually. Baz didn’t wanna know anything. The future was dark and unpleasant enough as it was, without the luxury of knowing that _for sure_ with the help of the prediction spell.

“I think I came up with something.” Snow said in an uncertain voice. “But it's probably not good anyway. Just the name of the song that I like.”

“Lyrics of the songs are great!” Penny nodded with encouragement. “They make spells more powerful. Let’s try it out.”

Snow shook his head. “I don’t want too. It probably won’t work anyway. Not with my skills.” He pushed his notebook to the middle of the table so that Baz and Penny could see. The spell was written in Snows terrible handwritten and underlined a few times. It took Baz some time to register what was written there. He caught himself holding his breath. The spell was beautiful and simple. Only four words that seemed to be so oddly in sync with his own thoughts and feelings.

 _“No future, no past.”_ The note said.

“Wow,” Penny said. “That is really good, Simon.” She sounded impressed. And surprised. So surprised that she didn’t even notice that she called Snow by his first name.

Snow looked up. “Thanks,” he made an uncertain pause. “Maybe one of you can try it out?”

“I can.” Baz heard himself saying. And immediately he laughed at his own stupidity. Reading some else spell was sacred, almost intimate. Who was he to read Simon Snow’s?

Snow beamed at him. “Can you?” He asked, his voice unsure.

“I do believe this is not the best idea-“ Penny started. She tried to catch Baz’s attention and slightly kicked him under the table again. “Predictions are dangerous, remember?”

But Baz didn’t listen. He was staring on the piece of paper where Snow wrote his spell, feeling the words burning through his brain, waiting to get out.

“How exactly dangerous is it?” Snow asked. He was frowning. Baz closed his eyes. He hated to see Snow worried. But he hated to disappoint him as well. His fingers squeezed the wand that was laying near his notebook.

 **_“No future, no past.”_ ** He cast.

After that, he felt himself falling. The world became a blurry line of memories stretching in front of his eyes. His childhood in Watford, the sad feeling while constantly missing his Mom, playing hide and sick with Fiona. He saw the day when he met Simon Snow for the first time, it wasn’t a pleasant memory, he felt the wave of humiliation going over him again, as he was once again staying there with his arm outstretched and Snow holding back for as long as he could, before magic put their hands together obviously against Snow’s will. The touch felt electric for Baz, but Snow’s face stayed perfectly bored and distant.

Baz tried to break out, but the memories were holding him tight. “What’s happening?” He heard Snow’s voice. It was real Simon Snow, not the one from memories, but the voice sounded so far away that Baz couldn’t really concentrate on the meaning.

“Something is wrong,” Penny replied, her voice falling apart before it could have reached Baz’s brain. “Baz! Wake up!”

Someone shook him by the shoulder, and then there was a touch. The same as in his dreams, Snow’s hand squeezing his, sending the heat through his body, making him feel real in the lucid world, where nothing was real anymore.

The memories became one straight line again, rushing forward.

He saw himself in the Watford's main hall, the huge room lighted in the most grotesque way possible — by the candles burning from inside pumpkin heads. Surprisingly he didn’t hate it any of it.  

“You are a terrible dancer.” He heard his voice saying. In his head, the slow music was playing and everything seemed warm and magical as he was dancing near someone.

“But you like me anyway.” Simon’s voice said in his ear. Only then Baz realized that they were dancing. _Together_. One of Simon’s hands was squeezing his hand and the other was holding his waist, not exactly pulling him closer, but definitely not letting him go away.

He was sucked into this new reality more and more. Overwhelmed by the feeling of warm excitement and the luxury of having Simon so close.

“I never thought,” Simon continued, while Baz slid his hand a bit lower from Simon’s shoulder to feel Simon’s arm under his touch, just because he _could,_ “that I would have to thank Fiona and Your Mother for all of this.”

“This Ball is an ancient Watford’s tradition. My Mom didn’t even participate in planning.” Baz from the dream replied. His voice sounded teasing and happy.

“Not for the Ball.” Simon’s breath was hot on his ear. “But for the chance to make you like me.”

For the moment the whole world was a huge mess of tight happiness all around Baz until it started getting smaller and smaller and he felt Simon’s hand leaving his. The absence of the touch felt almost painful and Baz fell into the emptiness of the real world as a hot body falling into the cold water.

He opened his eyes.

Penny was looking at him frightened. Simon was sitting opposite him, a huge table in between. He looked stunned, us if Baz was the one who grabbed his hand and not the other way around.

“Holly shit.” Simon said. “Merlin’s beard.” Somehow he was still _Simon_ in Baz’s head. It was unbearable.

“What happened?” Penny demanded out loud. “What did you see? And don’t dare to tell me that it was nothing. Because you went into the fucking coma and became all pale and we tried to wake you up. And then Snow grabbed your hand and now you look like you just saw the apocalypses and if it is so, I wanna know what the fuck was it.”

“Not apocalypses.” Agatha’s voice murmured. She was standing behind Simon, sneering at Baz. “This one looks like he just had a sex dream.”

Baz felt his face going on fire. On part of his brain was still inside his lucid dream, where Simon’s hand was holding his. _Lucid_ dream, he reminded himself. _Snow_.

“I saw our graduation day.” He lied.

“It’s in a half a year. You couldn’t see that far.” Penny frowned.

“Your hair was green and your dress was pink and Snow was making out with Agatha.” Baz lied.

“Bullshit.” Snow said. “ I know what you saw because I saw the same thing and it wasn’t that.”

“What was it then?” Agatha asked in a curious tone. “Did you finally saw yourself making out?”

Snow didn’t answer, but Baz saw his expression shifting to embarrassment. Agatha started to laugh and Baz understood that he cannot take it anymore. He needed to leave. _Now_. He couldn’t stand Snow’s hunted expression.

He stood up and left the room without looking back. He heard Penny’s voice shouting something behind his back and Agatha’s hysterical laugh, but soon it all disappeared behind the closed door.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please come talk with at [mybluebucketofsnow.tumblr.com](https://mybluebucketofsnow.tumblr.com/)


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